Silent Hill: The Forgotten Saint
by Lobsel Vith
Summary: Alone. All alone. When she thought it couldn't get any worse, somebody reached out to her. She needed contact, but this may prove to be too greivous an undertaking...More chapters soon, I promise!
1. Ch 1: The Perceived Nadir

1**Chapter 1: The Perceived Nadir**

_I just wish somebody would call._

_Why won't anyone just pick up their phone and call me?_

_I'm so alone._

_I hate it!_

_I don't want to be alone!_

_I won't be alone..._

A life surrounded by people who called themselves her friends. Yet, amidst this crowd, Rosaline always felt alone. Nothing could quite fill this void within herself. Her friends, who she either kept at arm's length or drew in so close, they pushed her away. Her family, who did all they could to fix whatever it was they thought was wrong with her. Not even her lovers, whom she had all kinds of; caring, sweet, gentle, abrasive, abusive, and downright psychotic. None of them satiated the emptiness.

She laid there, on the floor of her apartment, South Ashfield Heights Apartments suite 202. It had been days since anybody even tried to contact her. The community college had finished the spring semester several weeks ago, so her 'friends' didn't really see the need to talk to her; they didn't have any papers that they needed her to write. As for her family, they were the reason she moved to South Ashfield in the first place. They were always trying to force one medication or another down her throat, and she finally had enough. So, there she lay, wanting somebody to reach out to her. No, wanting somebody to _want_ to reach out to her. She only left her apartment when she absolutely had to buy food or other such necessities. She didn't even know how long she had lain there. It could have been mere minutes, whole days, or even a lifetime. But it didn't matter to her, the loneliness made time obsolete. There were instances when her body reminded her that it was a living thing in need of sustenance and other such natural function. But she ignored it completely, or at least to the point were she wouldn't mess her living room.

Her mind only seemed to fill with reasons she thought nobody wanted to talk to her. All reasons which at first seemed illogical, but she managed to rationalize them with the reasoning of a wounded animal. A puppy that had been kicked one too many times, and decided to lay in the corner and await the inevitable. All this burden upon her spirit seemed unbearable. It seemed as though her mind was finally about to give way underneath this, when she was startled.

Rosaline picked up her phone.

She was met only with static.

Rosaline began to cry. She felt pathetic for being so excited at the prospect of human contact. The sudden realization that she was desperate to be reached for was crushing. She decided that was it, she was finally going to-

The phone rang again. She didn't pick it up so quickly this time. She thought for a second, _Is somebody trying to mess with me?_ It was no big secret with her 'friends' that she wanted attention, so she figured somebody might be fucking around with her head. In spite of this, she picked up her phone again.

Nothing. Not even static.

_Goddamn it! Why in the hell wou-_ She suddenly realized that the phone made no sound whatsoever. Even if somebody was messing with her, the phone would have sounded a hiss from the current passing through it. Her anger was replaced with curiosity. All the rumors and ghost stories about her building began to flood back to her. The ones about the killer who was born and abandoned as a baby in the same complex as hers. How, after they caught him he killed himself in prison by stabbing a spoon into his neck, severing his carotid artery and bled himself to death. And how even that didn't seem to stop his murderous thirst. Then she remembered the eccentric painter who lived in her apartment before her, and was put a little more at ease. She decided to wait, so that the next time the phone rang, she might gain a little insight as to her current predicament.

One hour passed.

Then two.

Then three.

Rosaline was beginning to doze off when the phone rang. Drowsy and surprised, she picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

Nothing. But the electric hiss was there.

"Hello? I'm starting to get irate at this crap! Hello?"

"Rosaline?" She knew the voice right away. Vincent, that slippery fish. They grew up together in her hometown. Though he never managed to help with the void, she still tried her best to keep him around. She even managed to convince him to move to South Ashfield around the same time she did. But he lived over on the west end, clear across town. He did call every once in a while, but it seemed that he wasn't really interested in how she was doing, so long as she was 'okay'. Occasionally, if she acted like she wasn't okay, she could convince him to come and visit her. She thought he felt obligated, but at least she could depend on him to call every once in a while. "Rosey, thank God, I never thought I'd find a working phone in this town."

She could hear it in his voice, even though he tried to hide it. Anxiety of some kind, but she couldn't quite place it. Distress maybe. "Vincent, what's up, it's been a whi-"

"Rosey, you gotta help me. There's something wrong here, in this town. I don't know what the hell it is, but I can't find anybody. And what I did find... Rosey, I nee-."

A shot of static, then a voice on the other end. It sounded like her father, but different, more commanding. Her father never really took to much of an interest in her, except when she was being 'weird'. But this voice had a type of... power behind it. She could barely make out the words through the static- or was it background noise? She couldn't tell. "Go to him. He came to you, now do the same for him, or it'll be your fault. You've failed him before, Rosaline. Don't let it happen again."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"This town, Rose. It's like something out of a bad movie or video game. I can't explain it Rosey. I just... I need your help. Please, Rosey."

He wasn't trying to hide it anymore, and she knew right then what it was.

Fear.

"Just tell me where you are, Vince. I'll go. As soon as I can, I'll go."

"In the town, across the lake from Lakeside Amusement Park."

_That couldn't be, _she thought. _He'd have had to drive right past this area to get there. Why wouldn't he drop in for a visit?_

"You mean...Silent Hill?"


	2. Ch 2: Precedings

**Chapter 2: Precedings  
**

"Yeah, that's the one. Hurry Rose, I need you."

The phone cut off just as Vincent finished the last word. Rosaline Wondered if he hung up, or if something forced him off the line.

As she was preparing to leave, the ineffable voice rang through her thoughts. "Go to him... Don't let it happen again."

_What does that mean, _she thought to herself. Not a single instance where she had failed Vincent came to mind. In fact, she could only think about how she had tried to keep him close to her, sometimes even resorting to manipulation if she had to. But she always did whatever she could for him whenever the opportunity presented itself, however an infrequent occurrence that may have been.

_How had I failed him?_

Rosaline decided to push the thought out of her mind until she could afford to think about it. She had to focus on getting to Vincent as fast as she could. Running around her cramped apartment, it was hard for her to think of what she may need. She grabbed her backpack and dumped out all the paper from the now concluded semester, then began stuffing it with whatever she thought may come in handy. Once she was satisfied at the backpacks combination of contents, she grabbed an extra jacket for Vincent, lit herself a cigarette, and headed out the door.

As she turned back to lock the door behind her, she had barely gotten the key in the deadbolt when she was startled from behind.

"Now, now, Rose. You know very well that there is no smoking in the halls". It was Mrs. MacMurphy, the building manager. "There are other tenants with children on this floor. And such fresh little lungs the wee ones have, I'd bet their parents would like to keep 'em that way. It'd be a shame if one of them were to file a complaint, and force me to reprimand your carelessness."

Rosaline let out a heavy sigh, and thought of some choice words to dispense upon the person behind her, hiding under the guise of a sweet old lady. Truth was, Mrs. MacMurphy was about as bitter and mean spirited as they come. The same children that she spoke of were the ones she yelled at not more than a few hours ago for 'creating a ruckus' in the hall. And it was in that scorning that she managed to expand the vocabularies of those children, much to the dismay of their parents.

As she turned around, Rose forced a smile and said, "I'm sorry, Mrs. MacMurphy. It won't happen again."

"Let's hope not", retorted the smiling wench.

Rosaline was fuming as she made her way to the parking structure, but by the time she reached it, she had managed to calm herself down. She realized that there was no point in dwelling upon the quips of some mean old bitch. With her newfound sense of resolve, Rose made her way to her car. Just as her car came into sight, though, she was struck by a very peculiar sensation. It felt as if she was being watched, but not by anyone in a close proximity. No, this sense had a tremendous feel to it, as though someone's gaze managed to penetrate both space and time. Rose had wanted to be the center of somebody's attention, but this queer feeling was just too much. She drew in a deep breath, and made a break for her car. As soon as she was in, she locked the doors, and the feeling stopped as quickly as it had come. Relieved, she felt lucky that she didn't pass out.

As soon as she had collected herself, Rosaline buckled her safety belt, turned on her car, and pulled out onto the street. She readied herself for the long drive ahead, and began to recall her days of youth spent in Silent Hill.


	3. Ch 3:Omen

**Chapter 3: Omen**

Whenever her parents had decided Rose was acting normal enough for a decent stretch of time, they would treat her to a weekend at Lakeside Amusement Park. In reality, they just gave her money and shooed her along so that they may be left to their own devices. On the last few trips, Rose actually managed to drag Vincent along so she wouldn't be alone. She would often lure him there by promising him things which few teen boys could resist, let alone the boy who has loved her since she cried over his toy fire-truck that she had broken, as though it were the end of the world. Her parents even gave them their own room to share at the Lakeview Hotel, either too trusting or too unconcerned to worry about hormones.

She began to remember the long days spent with him around the amusement park, then to the outlying towns and local shops. Paleville had some nice little Mom&Pop shops, but nothing terribly interesting to the adolescent eye. But if they walked for half a day, they could get to a small town filled with things to occupy young, fleeting minds.

Silent Hill was once an ideal place for teenagers.

The stringent conservative majority had tried to rid Silent Hill of the evils of the modern world, consequently making them more appealing to rebellious youth and quick-witted merchants alike. Bookshops carried books on the occult and witchcraft, which a lot of teens ate up. Music shops had all the music grandparents lobbied viciously to have banned. And, for the legal teen, one or two 'special interest' shops would pop up occasionally, selling escape and fantasies for as long as they could before 'The Man' would shut them down. Innumerable things of interest kept their days full and busy.

Then her family just stopped going, as if Silent Hill wasn't only a non-option, but in fact became a taboo topic of discussion. Her parents would quickly change the subject if she tried to pull for another weekend trip. And all she did get from them was overheard during eavesdropping on the rare occasions they discussed the town. What little she got was something about the town 'changing hands', and more ominous speech.

Vincent only expressed dismay about the trips stopping before he was old enough to go to Heaven's Night, the local 'gentleman's parlor'.

Rosaline had enough time to chuckle once before what looked mostly like a deer bounded in front of her car. The reflection of her headlights in the animals eyes nearly blinded her. She shut her eyes and swerved the steering wheel. It was no use. She hit the animal on the forward side of it's body. Then everything slowed down.

It was like seeing everything through a fine sheet of silk, or cigarette smoke in a bar. She could hear the animals neck break in several places, over the sound of both metal and flesh compacting. She looked over to the animals face, and saw that it locked eyes with her. With the neck broken and the impact still happening, albeit disturbingly slow, the face of the beast drew closer to hers. The closer it got, the more she could see it was not a deer. Its skin stretched, peeled, and ripped as the face seemed to fight to get closer to her. She saw the creature's eyes were like large, pale, yellowish marbles set into eye sockets too big to keep them in, yet there they stayed. Then she began to see that, as the distance closed, the face was changing. Where was once a muzzle, what seemed like both seconds and hours ago, was now a nose formed by two short, thin strips barely over the rest of the head's shape. It's mouth stretched from ear-hole to ear-hole, looking as though the jaw was held by a small, delicate hinge. Inside the beasts gaping maw were rows of hundreds of small, serrated teeth. The skin, where it wasn't tearing, had thin white hairs spread over a pinkish gray membrane, giving it a sort of sheen in the moonlight.

The head of the creature, now barely attached to the rest of it's body, punched through the windshield as though it were little more than an annoyance. The shattered glass sliced at the beast's features, making a translucent black fluid creep forth from the wounds. The smell reminded her of waste, vomit, and... blood. It was the strongest of the odors, but it seemed wrong somehow. It had a strong metallic tinge to it.

When the face was close enough for her to see, lit only by moonlight, that the eyes were smooth, nearly featureless spheres, everything stopped. She wondered if it was the stoppage of time or naked fear that kept her from moving away from the maw, which now seemed to be grinning. The smile resembled that of a wolf's to a cornered rabbit. And before she could imagine the maw closing over her head, it stopped next to her ear, then spoke. It's voice was clear, yet reminiscent of a gale through the branches of a barren forest, each wisp of wind it's own voice.

"Leben Höhle."

She had no time to ponder these words, because as soon as they left the creatures lips, the collision resumed in full force. A flying sliver of glass cut deep into Rose's left cheek, and a piece of shrapnel dug deep into her left hand. Her car jostled to a stop, and the creature was nowhere to be seen. Rose thought to try and get her bearings, but instead chose to drop her head on the steering wheel and ignore her instincts, which told her to try and stay alert. Rosaline embraced the cool warmth of the darkness creeping into her vision.


End file.
